


Close Your Eyes and Fall

by Lori



Series: Not so Special [9]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Gen, SGA Saturday Prompt Challenge, Sentinel Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lori/pseuds/Lori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little field trip, up where the birds soar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Your Eyes and Fall

**Author's Note:**

> esteefee is the awesome beta for this piece. Thank you!

John closed his eyes against the glare. The wind was howling in his ears. His balance was tied to another human even as they swooped above the earth. With his eyes closed he didn’t have to pretend he was paying attention to Rodney, far below him on the landing strip. He didn’t have to pretend anything mattered but being suspended in the air, a hundred feet off the mountaintop. It was glorious. It was a simple joy that didn’t require a license or even an engine. It just required money and a waiver so he could do a tandem hang-gliding flight.

He could be a bird, hovering in the updrafts. 

If he focused he could hear the tension in the strings, nylon and the humming of the aluminum frame. Focusing further he probably could have found McKay’s voice, or the sounds of the other gliders that were up here with them. He didn’t. He just let himself exist. With his tandem pilot he didn’t even really need to pay a whole lot of attention, just follow the body movement of the pilot, also a sentinel. No words were necessary once they were up in the air.

He didn’t let go of his control but he did ease up a little on his senses. Air rushing over the bare skin of his cheeks, the faint warmth of the sun when they banked into a rising thermal.

His partner hummed a rising note, making John open his eyes. Circling in the thermal with them was a hawk John grinned and nodded, knowing the slight shift in weight would be felt through the harness that tied them together.

They stayed up the full 90 minutes in a single flight, circling in and out of the thermals when they needed more altitude. Finally it was time to go back, the jolt of landing coming up through his feet and knees to settle in his hips.

“Thanks,” he murmured and got a nod in return from his instructor.

Rodney was waiting at the edge of the landing zone and closed in on their position as soon as the instructor waved him forward. “Better now that you’ve thrown yourself literally off a cliff?”

“Yep.” He let a smile turn up the corners of his mouth even as he stretched his arms overhead. “You?”

“Let’s just say I won’t need a blood pressure stress test anytime soon.”

John reached out and touched Rodney’s neck, fingers brushing against the pulse point under his jaw. Fast but not unreasonably so. Up a little from what he was used to getting from his guide. Rodney just waited, clearly comfortable with being touched. “You were worried.”

“Some.” Rodney’s chin tilted up defensively. “The landing, I’m told, is the trickiest part.”

“Yes, of almost any flight.” He tucked his fingers into his armpits to warm them.

“I brought food for you.” Rodney pointed a thumb back over his shoulder toward the picnic tables. John’s appetite had been chancy since they’d come to the retreat. Even food that had been fine in the past had set off reactions. It must have shown in his expression somehow because Rodney’s mouth was set in a grim line. “You should try to keep it down or we’ll need to check in with Carolyn on a conference call.”

Resisting the urge to kick at the dirt with the toes of his hiking boots, John nodded. “It’s that or a bland diet.”

Rodney snorted. “There is applesauce in there, made at the retreat, and I’m told it’s sublime.” He shrugged. “Tasted okay to me.”

Because of course his guide would have been sure to taste everything long before it got to John. Instead of answering he just took the water bottle off the side of McKay’s pack and took a big swallow. 

“We need to move, John,” Rodney said, voice softened so it wouldn’t carry. “Another glider is coming in.”

He nodded and reached out, putting his left hand into the crook of Rodney’s elbow. He and Rodney both knew he was still literally riding the high of being in flight again and he’d look like a drunk if he tried to walk unaided right now. Under normal conditions he would have only needed a minute or two to shake it off but it had been three months since his capture and his senses were unstable.

Rodney waited for John’s nod before taking measured steps away from the landing area. John did okay until his heel slipped on a bit of gravel. Rodney’s hand clamped over John’s stopping him from completely falling over but the vertigo hit and everything spun, just a little bit. 

He stumbled one more step and then he had to stop. “Damn it.”

“We knew this might happen,” Rodney spoke but the words went muted right at the end of the sentence.

He could feel one of Rodney’s hands gently cupping his jaw, turning him so they were facing each other even as he broke out in a sweat. “I. Hearing. Help?”

“It’s okay. Well, no it isn’t okay but we know how to handle it.” Rodney pried one of John’s hands off his arm and placed it across the base of Rodney’s neck, so John would still be able to feel the vibrations of the words even if his hearing went away entirely. John closed his eyes and felt like he was swaying even though he knew he wasn’t. Rodney wouldn’t let him do that. “Keep your eyes closed. Take as deep a breath as you can stand and not throw up on me.”

He wanted to laugh and didn’t dare. He was just glad all he had in his stomach was water as that was beginning to churn dangerously. He could taste the sweat breaking out on his upper lip. “Safe?”

“Close enough.” Rodney’s tone was sharp. “How bad is it?”

He gulped and felt Rodney’s fleece tighten under the fist he made of his hand.

“Right.” Rodney sounded weary, just for a moment. “Pre-flight checklist for an Osprey please, Colonel Sheppard.”

It was the system they’d come up with after John had admitted that doing a body self-check usually made things worse. Instead, they’d found he could do the thought exercise of a walk-around for anything he’d flown—or a full pre-flight depending on the severity of the problem—to distract him and get his body to calm down. Rodney called it his Air Force meditation. Still, the V-22 Osprey was a dual engine aircraft with triple redundant systems, and the pre-flight was one of the more complicated ones, i.e., it would take a while to get through. 

John wanted to whine but instead he took a careful deep breath and relaxed into it, letting Rodney take some of his weight, even as he drifted into the well-known patterns. He could trust Rodney to keep an eye out while John got the vertigo under control. He could trust him to know enough about what he needed to follow his suggestions, even if they were over the top.

Fifteen minutes and ten seconds later he opened his eyes and flexed his fingers. The vertigo was gone and he felt solid in his control again. 

“Sheppard?”

“Five by five, McKay.” He didn’t let go though, waiting for Rodney’s agreement.

“Worth it?” Rodney reached up and gently pulled off John’s sunglasses.

He blinked at the brightness but didn’t otherwise move. This close he could feel Rodney’s heat and catch the scent of his body, even through the clothes. “Worth what? The flight? Yeah. Thank you for – you know – making it happen.” He thought he’d been hiding it well but maybe not so much. A brusque ‘get dressed for cold weather’ had been tossed at him over breakfast, then he'd been pushed into the car for the ride up here. He didn’t know how many strings Rodney had pulled to make this happen, because when John had checked last week he’d been told 'hell, no' and the waiting list was at least a month long.

Rodney snorted. “So eloquent, Sheppard. Let’s eat and then we need to get back. Science waits for no man.”

And that was as likely a ‘you’re welcome’ as he was going to get from his guide. They were more suited to each other than they would ever admit. “Mmm, applesauce.”

“Keep it down and we’ll risk coffee tomorrow.” Rodney’s hands were as gentle as his tone was acerbic. 

The smell was usually enough to make John turn green, sadly. Rodney would have his cup early and alone while John took a shower. They’d worked up to that too--at first he couldn’t even stand the smell of it on Rodney’s breath or in his sweat. “I miss good coffee.”

“You do not.” They’d started walking toward the tables again. “You miss the caffeine.”

He shrugged. “I miss the ritual of coffee. Checking to see how old the current pot is, dumping and making fresh. Guarding the drip with my life long enough to get the first mug.”

“Aren’t you senior enough not to have to do that shit anymore?” No doubt people didn’t dare steal coffee from Rodney’s labs.

“There is always a bigger fish, McKay. Especially in most of the big units I was attached to. Besides, it gave everyone something harmless to bitch about.” When there was coffee to bitch about. It was on the standard rotation with toilet paper, crappy food, tools and spare parts. “Also, rank loses out to fast reflexes when it comes to the last of the hot coffee.”

“Fair.” Rodney maneuvered them both down onto a bench. “Still, everyone was armed, right?”

Ah, to be a civilian. “Not even an option. Short-sheeting the bed or taking it out in sparring practice was the acceptable way to get even. Maybe taking a plum assignment.”

“Are you hungry at all?”

“Theoretically.” He took a look in the cooler and sighed. Bananas, pre-cooked rice, the aforementioned applesauce and bread. In the double baggie to seal away smells were the optimistic food options: granola, fruit yogurt, a chocolate bar and a roast beef sandwich. He poked at it with one finger before pushing the whole thing away. “More water first.”

“Lam is going to do something drastic if you don’t eat today.” Still, Rodney handed over the thermos. “Like sigh and look disappointed.”

“Can’t have that,” he murmured between sips. “Rice first. Is there any soup?” He’d had good luck with the bouillon.

“High maintenance sentinels, sheesh.” Rodney was grinning though as he dug through the backpack and pulled out the smaller thermos. He handed it over even as John boggled.

“Superman? Really?” He turned it, taking in the pictures along the outside before unscrewing the bright red cap.

“Vintage.” Rodney’s expression dared him to say anything about it. “And they were out of Batman.”

They were also made of glass and the plastic would be completely outgassed. Plus it was cool. “Nice.” The soup smelled great and he took a decent sized swallow before he could talk himself out of it.

Rodney raised one eyebrow at him, silently asking how it was going. John gave a cautious nod. So far so good. In return, Rodney dug into the cooler and pulled out the sandwich. “Get the rest of the soup down and then we can go. I’ll eat this.”

John nodded and turned to face the field. He wanted to watch the gliders, human and avian for as long as he could. Who knew when he’d get another chance? He shifted a little, getting comfortable with the tabletop pressing against his back and the warmish soup in one hand. The man who had taken him up was back in the air, alone this time and doing a swooping dive that made John ache a little with its beauty.

“Don’t even think about it, Sheppard.”

He grinned. Yep, his guide was definitely getting to know him.

\--30--


End file.
